


ceremony

by softshocks



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, Ocean's 8 AU, emotionally-compromised queerplatonic heist wives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24806470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softshocks/pseuds/softshocks
Summary: At the end of the night Jeongyeon is soaring, and she wants to kiss Jihyo when the sun rises.She doesn’t.
Relationships: Yoo Jeongyeon/Park Jihyo
Comments: 50
Kudos: 216





	1. heaven knows it’s got to be this time

**Author's Note:**

> Me writing for twice? In 2020? More likely than you think
> 
> Title is from [ceremony by new order](https://youtu.be/H5UK40sSo8I)
> 
> Come say hi, i’m @hausofbora on twitter, sharpshocks on tumblr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> De•vo•tion and Dedicated sides A by carly rae jepsen

On her eleventh birthday, Jeongyeon almost dies.

The kicks to her stomach and leg count to eleven, too. Blows from the mean kids who thought it would be funny to pick on her because she dressed differently. Or because she didn’t have parents. Or because she wanted them to stop picking on the smaller kids at the jungle gym.

She counts to eleven, hopes for it to stop, and then it does.

 _Huh, is eleven my magic number_? She thinks, curious, the blood dripping down her mouth. The haze clouds her mind but a voice cuts through. 

“Leave her alone, you freaks!” A girl’s voice demands. The crowd that gathered around her scrambles away, but she continues. “If you ever touch her again, you’ll never see the light of day.” 

Jeongyeon cracks an eye open when someone crouches down to help her. 

“Park Jihyo,” she mumbles. Her mouth feels like it’s full of cotton and blood. 

Park Jihyo is ten. She’s a grade lower. Class president. Club president. Daughter of the most notorious con artist in the country. 

It makes sense everyone scrambled away when she demanded them to. 

“Get up, goody-two-shoes,” Jihyo tells her, and Jeongyeon can’t do it, her body too tired and maybe a bit broken in several other places. But she’s lifted up anyway, and Jihyo is strong for someone her size. “I’m taking you to the hospital. Hang in there.” 

Jeongyeon doesn’t remember the ride, doesn’t remember how she ends up hooked to an IV drip in a room she probably can’t pay for, with Jihyo sleeping on the smaller bed a few meters away from her own. 

Jihyo’s father pays for everything and more, telling Jeongyeon not to worry. 

“Anything for Jihyo’s friend,” he tells her, on the other side of the phone. Jeongyeon doesn’t have the heart to tell him that she isn’t even Jihyo’s friend to deserve this kindness.

“Why’d you help me?” Jeongyeon asks Jihyo when she visits after school. She doesn’t like building Lego with Jeongyeon but she does like completing puzzles with her. There’s always a new one she brings over, and raspberry flavored ring pops they like eating. “We don’t know each other.” 

Jihyo only raises a brow at her, sparing her a glance and then returning to putting the pieces together, pulling the ring pop from her mouth. “Did you have to be my friend to do the right thing?”

She shakes her head, saying no. A beat, and: “I’ll think about it.” 

“About what?”

“Being your friend.” Jeongyeon laughs at the dark look Jihyo throws her way. “I was kidding! Jeez.” 

“You’re lucky you’re bedridden,” says Jihyo. “I know better than to throw this whole puzzle at your face.” 

“I’d like to see you try.” 

She was eleven, but Jeongyeon knew she’d do anything and everything for Park Jihyo.

-

Jeongyeon is fourteen when the grades above them start taking career tests and it’s the talk of the town, the only thing she hears about for days on end.

Of course, she shouldn’t care yet. 

Of course, it’s also the farthest thing from Jihyo’s mind right now too. She’s thirteen, and also failing miserably at shooting the ball into the basketball hoop because she is so incredibly tiny. 

Jeongyeon stands and watches her amusedly, a tease ready to make its way out of her mouth whenever Jihyo misses. She asks anyway. “Have you thought about what you want to do when you grow up?”

The ball looks massive in Jihyo’s hands when she retrieves it. “Maybe.” She tries, and misses. 

She rephrases her question. “Do you want to do what your dad does when we get older?”

Jihyo doesn’t even miss a beat. “I think so. It’s cool and I think I’d be good at it. I’m his only kid, too. What about you?”

“I want to do whatever you want to do.” She means it. She’s part of this family now. Three years have passed and Jeongyeon has felt like she was part of a family than in any foster home. 

Jihyo passes the ball to her, seemingly wanting to surprise her, but Jeongyeon catches it perfectly. “You have to want your own life, dummy,” she shoves Jeongyeon but barely makes her budge. She laughs, then it dies down at the realization. “Even if it’s not with me.” 

The ball is slightly damp from the concrete, and she dribbles it. She takes her aim and it falls inside the hoop on her first try. “But you’re my best friend. I want to be with you.” 

“Maybe you won’t always think that.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“ _You_ don’t know that, either.” 

Jeongyeon shakes her head, retrieving the ball to dribble it between her legs, turning, and taking a shot. She’s been playing with some friends after school, as she waits for Jihyo to be done with club hours. “Show-off,” mumbles her best friend, but there’s a smile on her face. 

“I think I want to protect people,” Jeongyeon tells her. “Our people, I mean.” 

_Our people,_ she says, but she only means: _just you._

“For a second I was scared you would join the police force,” replies Jihyo. “But you’re too good to be a part of them.” 

It never even crossed her mind. They suck. Jeongyeon doesn’t ever want to be part of that. 

“You really wanna stay, huh?” 

“Yeah. Isn’t it obvious?”

Jeongyeon passes the ball to her. “You’re not mad people who hate us call you my puppy? Because it’s not true and you know it.” The frown on Jihyo’s face tells her that Jihyo hates it, probably more than Jeongyeon does. 

She shrugs. She’s heard it a couple of times, but they were quickly shut up whenever Jeongyeon approaches them - now, a few inches taller, with a better build. 

Now, no one dares to piss her or Jihyo off. “Not really. Not like what they say about us matters to me.”

In a few scuffles, she’s been called Jihyo’s lapdog and she had punched his face so hard Jeongyeon almost got suspended. _Almost._ (Thanks, Mr. Park.)

There’s a certain kind of openness on Jihyo’s face Jeongyeon can’t place, can’t understand. Hopeful. Afraid. Those two words come close.

It’s wiped away, gone too soon. Jihyo throws the ball at her quite hard, and Jeongyeon wasn’t prepared. Catching it knocks the breath out of her lungs and the ball makes a loud _pang!_ when her hands absorb the shock. 

“Okay,” Jihyo says, flippantly, but there’s a smile on her face. “So cheesy. Ew.” 

They mess around in the basketball court, as if they they never had that conversation, while they wait for the driver to pick them up. 

-

Jeongyeon is sixteen and a half when Jihyo has her first crush. 

“That’s nice,” Jeongyeon says, settling into the comforter more. Her hands fold under her head as she looks up at the high ceiling of Jihyo’s room. 

She hasn’t stayed over at the group home in a few days. They know she’s always here with Jihyo. 

The crush is a girl from the glee club, and Jeongyeon knows her distantly. “Does she feel the same?” 

Jihyo shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just a crush.” She rolls over to look at Jeongyeon. “Do you have a crush?”

She spends a few moments thinking about it and realizes no one comes to mind. When she shakes her head no, Jihyo makes a face. “All the girls falling to their knees around the school oval and _none_ of them are your type?” 

Her face heats up at the reminder of the countless girls who line up to see her, waving, whenever she passes by them as she jogs and warms up has been a constant fixture as of late. “Please don’t talk to me about that.” 

Jihyo makes a sound. “Aww, not used to the attention? Poor baby.” Jeongyeon shoves her away, but she doesn’t relent. “My best friend got cute! What’s so wrong about feeling proud about that?”

She lets Jihyo tease her until they fall asleep. 

-

Jeongyeon is twenty when they pull their first heist. It’s a DeBeers store, one of the biggest in the country, and they pull it off perfectly.

The plan was simple: get in, get the stuff, get out. 

The plan was simple, or it was to Jihyo. 

There were nuances that Jeongyeon oversaw. Overriding the systems, dismantling security, having someone black-out the street cams, driving out safely. Even their outfits, Jeongyeon procured. Even their car, Jeongyeon drove. 

Jihyo swipes it expertly, and they take a moment admiring the diamonds with the tiny flashlight Jeongyeon has with her. 

“Pretty,” Jihyo says, somewhat disinterestedly. Jeongyeon knows she’s after the rush of breaking and entering, not the actual goodies. She knows, and she feels the same way too. 

Jeongyeon looks from the diamond, to Jihyo. Her lower face is covered and her eyes are glinting, radiating from the joy of almost having pulled off her first theft ever. 

Jihyo was pretty. She always was. The realization lands like a brick between her ribs. 

“What?” She says, pulling Jeongyeon out of the reverie. “Is there something on my face?” 

Jeongyeon looks away, her chest aching. “Yeah. That face mask isn’t flattering on you.” It’s a lie, and Jihyo knows it. She elbows Jeongyeon and it’s enough to tell her she knows Jeongyeon doesn’t mean it. 

She is also twenty when she realizes she’s been in love with Jihyo for years. Way before she even knew what being in love with someone meant. 

It’s simple. Natural. As if that fateful moment in the sandbox eight years ago would have led to this moment one way or another. 

But the realization also weighs on her. She feels it when Jihyo takes her hand to leave. She feels it when she drives them back, mixing with the high of their first heist—their first heist, together. She feels it when they celebrate at home, tell Mr. Park who is _beyond_ elated that his baby girl is following in his footsteps. 

“You did good, kid,” Mr. Park says, ruffling Jeongyeon’s hair, and it warms her. Jihyo watches her with the same amount of pride. 

“I couldn’t have done it without her,” Jihyo says, softly, and she’s smiling so big that Jeongyeon can’t help but return it. Jeongyeon can’t help but love her. 

It carries over, when they celebrate. Mr. Park throws a massive party and no one except a small number of people know why. She’s been a fixture at these things for as long as she remembered, but often she and Jihyo wandered off somewhere else to play. 

_Where are you?_ She texts Jihyo when she doesn’t spot her for roughly twenty minutes. 

_Rooftop_ , comes Jihyo’s reply. When Jeongyeon types if it’s alright to join her, the next message comes. _Get up here._

The wind is chilly when Jeongyeon opens the door to the rooftop and to the balcony overlooking the city. Jihyo is wrapped up in her nice coat, hiding a nice dress that makes Jeongyeon’s heart race. 

“Needed a moment?” 

Jihyo looks back at her, smiling, and she follows Jeongyeon as she stands beside her, leaning forward on the rails. “Yeah. Just a breather. You know how dad gets with parties.” 

“But it’s for you.”

“And you, too.” 

Silence blankets over them, and Jihyo speaks. Her breath condenses. For some reason, it’s silly to Jeongyeon. “I couldn’t have done it without you.” 

She shakes her head. “Nah. You still could have.” 

“Can you _please_ stop being humble and let me praise you?” She laughs, and Jeongyeon does what she says. “Thank you. As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, none of this,” she points at the party, “would be possible if it weren’t for you.” 

Jeongyeon resists, and Jihyo continues. “You’re my… my best friend.” She looks at Jeongyeon, and God, Jeongyeon was in love with her. “My partner in crime. Quite literally.” 

She laughs at that, even as her heart squeezes inside her ribcage. Jeongyeon has so many things to say, so, so many. _Thank you for saving me. I’d do anything for you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember and I don’t know what to do._

The sincerity in Jihyo’s eyes is making it hard to breathe, not in a suffocating way—but in a way that she wants to kiss Jihyo and she may die if she doesn’t. 

Of course, she chooses the latter.

Of course, she chooses the snark. 

“So cheesy, God,” she says, and she did not expect the split-second of hurt that crosses Jihyo’s face. Jeongyeon was pretty sure she imagined it. “Where’d you learn that?” 

The hurt is gone but knowing Jihyo, it’s packed away to the farthest recesses of her brilliant mind. The tension is still there and now a wall is, too. 

_Stupid, Jeongyeon. So stupid._

“From the worst,” Jihyo tells her, referring to Jeongyeon, but it’s more quiet this time. Then the silence that follows is almost unbearable. 

Say something. Anything. 

A few beats, a few breaths. “Jihyo,” Jeongyeon says, soft, inviting. Jihyo looks at her, vulnerable in the way she barely is, and Jeongyeon’s heart trips over itself at the sight. It chips at the wall, slices the tension. “I think I—”

The door opens and it shatters the moment immediately. Jeongyeon doesn’t know if she wants to curse the intruder for ruining that lovely moment or thank them for stopping her before she says anything she’ll regret in the morning. 

It’s an even cut in the middle of those two options because it’s Nayeon, the newest addition to their circle. The daughter of one of the largest goods smugglers in the city, it seems as if Nayeon was taking over a few operations, including some THC. 

Anything you want, Nayeon can get. 

_Except get out right now,_ Jeongyeon thinks bitterly. But a small part of her thanks her. She likes the girl and she fits right in, respecting that Jeongyeon and Jihyo have a friendship that runs deep. 

Jihyo, however, groans when she sees who it is. “What do you want, Nayeon?” 

She ignores the pointed tone and walks closer, holding up three rolled blunts. “Heard you nerds wanted some of these. The party was getting pretty uptight down there.” 

They roll their eyes but take them anyway, smoking up in silence save for a few pointed jabs at some of their parents’ friends. 

At the end of the night Jeongyeon is soaring, and she wants to kiss Jihyo when the sun rises.

She doesn’t.

-

On her twenty second birthday, Jeongyeon almost dies. 

It’s exactly eleven years after the sandbox incident and it’s marked by a heist going awry. It ends with a few bullets on Jeongyeon’s leg and the best they can do without getting chased by the cops is hole up in a shitty motel room outside the city, blood all over the tiles of its shitty bathroom. 

There’s a towel rolled up between Jeongyeon’s teeth as she screams into it, her throat scratchy from the effort, but the pain is sharp as Jihyo tweezes the bullets out of her thigh, sews her back together afterwards. The shells are deposited into the sink. 

Jeongyeon’s blood covers Jihyo’s steady hands, and once she stitches her closed, they shake. Reaching out for the vodka bottle she used to sterilize the materials, Jihyo takes a swig with trembling hands.

“You’re an idiot, did you know that?” She says, making a face as she downs the hard liquor. She’s angry. Seething. But Jeongyeon has never been afraid of her. “A big fucking idiot too good to save your own life. Risking her neck. For me. Unbelievable.” 

“Yeah,” Jeongyeon breathes. She’s tired, almost about to pass out from the exhaustion, but Jihyo isn’t done yet. “Yeah. I am.” 

“Well stop it.” Her eyes are shiny with tears that don’t overflow, and it’s the first time she sees Jihyo cry. “Don’t ever do that again. It’s stupid and you know it.” 

When Jihyo moves to stand, it takes every drop of energy in Jeongyeon’s body to reach out, take her wrist in her hand. 

Time stops. It freezes. So does Jeongyeon’s heart when Jihyo looks at her, streaks of tears staining her cheeks. “Wouldn’t you do the same?” Jeongyeon asks, quietly. Her heart pumps madly in her chest, and it’s not from trying to pump more blood she lost. 

The same blood that stains Jihyo’s hands, and now her own as their fingers link together tightly, like a lifeline. 

“Wouldn’t you?” Jeongyeon asks again. 

Jihyo doesn’t say anything but the look on her face is enough to tell Jeongyeon exactly what she wants to say. 

Jihyo’s never been good at talking about these things but Jeongyeon can read her like a book. The furrow of her brows, the frown on her lips, her eyes shining with tears moving between Jeongyeon’s own and everywhere else. 

_I would_ , her ever-expressive eyes say. _I would, a thousand times over._

She doesn’t say it but Jeongyeon understands, anyway. “Let me get some gauze and water,” is what comes out of her mouth and Jeongyeon lets go of her hand, clutching her stomach and trying to regulate her breathing. 

After a few moments, Jihyo is back with the gauze and the water. “I’ll head out after you’re tucked in bed to get some meds and food for us. ” she rips open the wrapper and gets to work. 

Halfway through, she breaks the silence that fills the room which is accompanied by Jeongyeon’s labored breathing and the leaky faucet’s drip-drop. “Why risk so much for me?” Jihyo doesn’t look at Jeongyeon, only busies herself with the gauze. 

_I love you. You’re it for me_. 

“You’re my best friend.” She says, simply. And it is. The whole world could start to not make sense and Jihyo would be her best friend, still. Jihyo would still make sense. “Why is that so hard to understand? You’d—” Jeongyeon winces when there’s a sharp pain. “You’d do the same for me.” 

“It’s because I don’t want to lose you.” Jihyo says sharply, then she softens. “It would kill me if it was because of me. Or because of anything. I don’t want to lose you,” she repeats, quieter, more desperate, and a part of Jeongyeon withers away.

“Okay,” Jeongyeon concedes, even though she knows she won’t stop throwing herself in front of any harm that comes Jihyo’s way. For some reason, it seems as if Jihyo knows this too. “Okay.” 

Jihyo comes back with some hot convenience store food, more water, soda, and ring pops that are Jeongyeon’s favorite flavors to up her sugar. 

“Happy birthday,” Jihyo says, dumping the godforsaken candy on the bed. The smile on her face is soft, fond, but still worried. “I’d steal thousands of these to make it up to you for giving you a shitty birthday. Just for that and then you can fuck off.” 

Jeongyeon laughs even if it physically hurts. “It’s okay. It’s the thought that counts.” She smiles, popping one into her mouth. “You’re good.” 

That night, Jihyo holds her from behind as they settle in the queen-sized bed. She only does so when she’s scared, and Jeongyeon holds her as tightly as she can without jostling her leg.

That night, they don’t sleep.


	2. all i know is i don't deserve you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was supposed to be Jihyo’s forty-fifth successful heist. 
> 
> It was supposed to be Jeongyeon’s, too, but they haven’t spoken for months on end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE!!! It’s extended!!! I hope you all know that all your ‘softshocks comeback’ tweets SENT ME. Thank you so much, I didn’t think writing for twice again would get this much traction but I’m happy and feel appreciated :D 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6unw7l8AgQTnedAjRhTQqG?si=bfspJVyCQfintAiOLQN3_A) so we can pretend I didn’t have [white mercedes](https://open.spotify.com/track/7fOFeVSyL18q7RiU6cnhiM?si=cTcLjLxlRY6pVrfjNcGXHA) by charli xcx on repeat
> 
> Also cw: ocean’s 8 canon-typical compulsory heterosexuality

At the age of twenty-five, with a cumulative amount of a hundred million Won in her different bank accounts, Jeongyeon buys a medium-sized loft because it’s practical and officially moves out of the Park home, where she’s been a common fixture since her childhood. 

She feels sad in the way she didn’t when she moved out of the group home she barely stayed at ever since she and Jihyo became fast friends the moment she became an adult. 

“We’re sad to see you go, kid,” Mr. Park says, a hand on her shoulder. “But always know you have a home here at the Park estate.” She drops the boxes of her stuff and embraces him. He was a mastermind, the closest thing to a father Jeongyeon ever had. 

The tables turn because it’s Jihyo who practically moves in this time. It’s the small things that Jihyo thinks Jeongyeon doesn’t notice.

(A part of Jeongyeon thinks Jihyo knows she notices, but she doesn’t bring it up, isn’t ready for that conversation - whatever it is, wherever it will lead.) 

Again, it’s the small things. Jihyo stays the night. Jihyo brings dinner for the two of them. When Jeongyeon adopts a cat and names him _Bomb_ , Jihyo spoils him with toys and treats that Jeongyeon is pretty sure he loves Jihyo more than her. 

“Why do you like it here so much?” Jeongyeon asks as she tosses out the takeout boxes into the bin, separated their leftovers with the takeout boxes. She was a criminal, yes, but she was not about to contribute to the growing problem of trash disposal. There were lines to be drawn. 

She means it lightly, and Jihyo replies as such. “Are you kicking me out after I let you live with me for over a decade?” She clutches her heart in mock-anguish. “How dare thee.” 

Jeongyeon rolls her eyes, crosses her arms, leans back against the sink. “Your house is so much nicer than this.” 

It’s true. The Park estate was massive, and this was probably just a room or two in that place. 

Jihyo inspects her nails, sipping from her cup. Everything suddenly seems more interesting than Jeongyeon. “It doesn’t have you in it.” 

Oh. 

Jeongyeon fights the blush that creeps up her neck. Right. Sometimes it’s such a natural thing to her that she realizes she’s in love with Jihyo. _In love-in love,_ and she isn’t sure Jihyo feels the same way _._ _Not that it matters,_ Jeongyeon thinks. Nothing would change. 

_If nothing would change,_ Nayeon had said years ago when they were drunk and lonely and hurting, _then what are you so afraid of?_

“ - hello? Earth to Jeongyeon?” She’s pulled out of the reverie. Bomb has now taken residence on Jihyo’s lap, rubbing his head against her cheek. Jeongyeon’s heart swells at the sight. “You spaced out there for a sec.” 

She shakes her head, turning to clean their utensils, ignoring the heat crawling up her neck. 

+

Barely any day passes that Jihyo doesn’t cross her side of the bed and into Jeongyeon’s space, because she always does, without fail. It’s clockwork, at this point and Jeongyeon gets used to the warmth of Jihyo embracing her from behind.

It’s hard not to be in love with her, so Jeongyeon snuggles closer and lets it happen. Bomb sleeps at their feet, but sometimes he stays in between them, like tonight. 

(Sometimes she thinks she hears Jihyo mumble ‘ _I don’t deserve you_ ’ when she’s on the brink of sleep. It might have been a dream. She will never know and she doesn’t want to find out.) 

+

Jeongyeon keeps count. They’ve had exactly forty-three successful jobs since the one they did when she was twenty. At this rate, Jeongyeon would say Jihyo is probably better than her own father and he knows it, is proud of her for it. 

On the forty-fourth heist, Jihyo meets _him._

By extension, Jeongyeon does, and all her alarm sirens go off. 

He was charming, good-looking, an ‘acclaimed’ artist but Jeongyeon thinks his works were mediocre at best. There was something very wrong with him. Jeongyeon can’t place her finger on it. 

“Maybe it’s because he’s a man,” Nayeon jokes, but she one-hundred-fifty percent means it. “We just have a natural distrust for them. For good reason, mind you.” 

Jeongyeon is also twenty-five when she and Jihyo argue about him. The pent up frustration is too much because she’s barely seen Jihyo, hasn’t been coming home recently. 

( _Home,_ the thought slices through the anger. When has she started to think of this place as a home for her and Jihyo?)

So when Jihyo shows up to get some clothes, her presence punctures Jeongyeon, and she bursts. “Where have you been?”

Jihyo answers simply. “At his place.” 

Her heart drops to her stomach even if she had known the answer. “God. Again?” She’d wanted to give Jihyo some ring pops she had in the fridge from her last solo job in Bangkok. It was Jihyo’s ultra-rare favorite flavor she spent three hours finding. 

Putting down her bag, Jihyo crosses her arms. Bomb scratches up her leg, but she ignores it. “What do you mean, _again?_ You’re not my mother. I can spend my time with anyone I want to.” When Jeongyeon doesn’t say anything, Jihyo continues. “Are you upset I don’t spend all my time with you like we did when we were teenagers? Get over it.” 

That was a slap in the face if Jeongyeon has ever experienced one. “I’m not jealous. I don’t know where you got that impression.” She says, voice low. “I’m worried about you. You’re being reckless and defensive.” 

“Reckless? That’s rich coming from you.” Jihyo replies. “And I _am_ being defensive because you’re all up in my business for no goddamn reason.” 

“I’m not,” Jeongyeon feels her tone rising, and the rush of blood to her head. “I’m just watching out for you like I always do. Does he know what you do? What your family does?” 

“Why are we bringing _my_ family into this? Last thing I remember is that my family was yours too.” 

Jeongyeon laughs bitterly. “You’re not answering my question.” 

There’s a beat, and a brief, “Yes,” from Jihyo. “Yes. He knows.” 

Jeongyeon has nothing to say. “See? Reckless.” 

“It’s not reckless to tell my boyfriend that my family is a web of organized criminals.” 

_Boyfriend?_ If Jeongyeon’s heart wasn’t breaking then, it certainly is now. “You never told me he was your boyfriend. I was under the impression he was your plaything.” 

“If he was, then it’s also none of your business!” From his position on the floor, Bomb runs away when their voices get louder. 

By the time Jihyo turns around to leave and Jeongyeon feels the sobs she’s been trying to keep in trying to choke her. She sounds pathetic, so broken when she watches Jihyo’s back walking away. 

“He’s going to hurt you.” _He won’t love you like I do._

Jihyo stops at the doorway. She looks over her shoulder. “You don’t know that.” 

“I do.” _He doesn’t know you like I do._

“You don’t always know what’s good for me.” 

The tears spill over and Jeongyeon’s crying before she knows it. “I do. That’s always what I’ve wanted. Don’t you know that?” Jihyo doesn’t look at her because she knows Jeongyeon is crying, and she knows that Jihyo’s resolve weakens when she does. “I’ve never shown you otherwise.” 

_I’ve never loved anyone else but you._

Jeongyeon thinks she hears a sniffle come from Jihyo, and sees her lift her hand to wipe her face. She says nothing at first, then faces forward fully. “Just leave me alone.” She says, quietly. “Have your own life. You deserve better than me.” 

“Do you mean that?” 

Jihyo wipes away her tears. “I don’t know.” 

But Jeongyeon does what’s requested of her, even as it shatters her heart and her ribcage into a thousand complex pieces. 

And Jihyo still leaves, and the ring pops in her refrigerator remains untouched. 

+

It was supposed to be Jihyo’s forty-fifth successful heist. 

It was supposed to be Jeongyeon’s, too, but they haven’t spoken for months on end. 

The forty-fifth, supposedly. Everything was supposed to go smoothly. 

Then _he_ rats her out. _He_ sells information. _He_ tips the police. 

Jihyo almost had it, almost had the prized painting, but it slips through her fingers like sand. 

At the end of the night, she’s told that Jihyo is under police custody and is awaiting trial.

Jeongyeon doesn’t know what to do. 

+

Mr. Park firmly tells her and Nayeon to not attend any of Jihyo’s hearings to not risk being labelled as accomplices. The lack of people showing up at the door of her loft tells her that Jihyo never threw her under the bus. That for all the crimes she was being tested for, she was alone with no one with her. 

They try to pull some strings and get Jihyo’s sentence to shorten. It works, and she has to spend at least three years, which is good enough time for all the shit the Justice system found out about her. 

A part of her wants to see Jihyo, to scrub off the bad taste their last encounter had been, up in Jeongyeon’s loft, but she is far from ready to face her after having her heart broken by Jihyo.

The loft feels empty and it has been since Jihyo left. Bomb occupies the space Jihyo did on their bed.

“Missing her again? She won’t be coming back for some time.” Jeongyeon coos when he whimpers, scratching the side of the mattress where Jihyo lay. Jeongyeon ruffles his fur and he calms down. “But I miss her too, bud,” A few tears roll down her cheeks. “I miss her too.” 

+

Despite all of that, Jeongyeon can’t help it.

She pulls some strings, makes some calls. Inside the slammer, she has a few contacts she made from past jobs. Some people owe her favors, and Jeongyeon cashes them in for Jihyo. 

It’s easy. Jeongyeon has someone sneak in some materials for Jihyo inside. Some canned goods, a few shivs, and a burner phone among them. It’s not going to be easy for Jihyo, but Jeongyeon will try to get it done. She, Nayeon, and Mr. Park are the only contacts in there. 

A few days in, Jeongyeon gets a text.

 _Thanks,_ it reads, _owe u loads._

Her heart is taken into a vice grip and Jeongyeon types back a quick response. _Only use burner phone if absolutely necessary._

She goes about her chores, cleaning up the loft even if there’s nothing to clean. Then another message. 

_Impt 2 thnk u 4 evrythng._

+

Tragedy strikes right before Jeongyeon’s twenty-sixth birthday. 

Mr. Park, at age fifty-five, collapses during a party and has a sudden heart attack. He falls to the ground and they call for ambulance, apply first-aid emergency response. He stays awake, just enough for them to take him to the hospital and Jeongyeon holds his hand throughout the entire ambulance ride. 

He beckons her closer, and Jeongyeon leans down to hear him speak. Her eyes are leaking sideways. “Take… care…” he struggles to get out, “you… Jih…” 

That’s all she ever wants, and that’s all she’s ever done. Jeongyeon nods, hard enough, her eyes blurring with tears. 

He doesn’t make it, and Jeongyeon holds his hand all throughout. 

+

Nayeon drives her to the correction center. “You sure you wanna go in there alone?” When Jeongyeon nods, Nayeon shoves her goodnaturedly. “Alright. Suit yourself.” 

When Jeongyeon lingers, unmoving, Nayeon laughs. “You don’t have to be a martyr all the time, you know.” She taps the steering wheel with her manicured nails. “Unlike most people, I think your self-sacrificial complex is a tragic flaw.” 

Jeongyeon doesn’t have the patience for this. “Shut up,” she says, rolling her eyes, and braves the rain. 

They call for Jihyo, and Jeongyeon waits at the table. Her leg shakes uncontrollably under it. She can be shivering because of running under the rain, or because she’s nervous as hell. 

The door opens, and Jihyo walks in, donning orange. She looks beautiful, still, and Jeongyeon is still in love with her. 

It’s hard not to, when Jihyo’s face lights up in the way that it never has. Her eyes shine, her smile, wide. “Jeongyeon,” her voice is soft, quiet, reverent. “Hi.” 

One year and three months. That’s how long it’s been since they last saw each other. 

Jeongyeon curses the universe that it has to be this way. “Jihyo,” she says carefully, somberly. She wishes she could return the smile Jihyo gives her. “Your dad…”

The light in her eyes dims at once. 

+

It feels an awful lot like replacing Jihyo as the eldest daughter, being the person to organize the funeral and facing people, recounting and retelling what happened, accepting sympathy and words of comfort that don’t do anything to dull the ache. 

No one asks about Jihyo, but Jeongyeon is sure everyone knows what happened the past year. 

Nayeon is there, thankfully. She brings their pets to get some fresh air at the field near the church. When the density of guests grow thinner by the hour, Nayeon drops by to duck out but Jeongyeon asks her to stay. 

“Can you?” Bomb is wriggling in Jeongyeon’s embrace. It feels awkward asking Nayeon for another favor. 

“Uh, sure,” Nayeon replies. “Can I know why?”

Jeongyeon sighs. Tired, spent. “We have one last visitor.” 

An hour later, a government-issued car arrives and Jihyo is escorted out of it and into the chapel. Bomb wriggles out of Jeongyeon’s arms, down to the floor, and Jihyo kneels to embrace him as much as she can with cuffed hands. 

“Hey,” Jeongyeon greets. Nayeon looks about ready to fling herself and hug Jihyo real tight, but it isn’t allowed. 

“Hey,” Jihyo greets, her eyes sunken. She takes it that Jihyo will need a few moments alone - with the assigned escorts - in the chapel, so they let her.

Before she leaves, she slides a few hundred thousand won to each of them to let Nayeon hug Jihyo, and to let her stay for a while. 

It works, because she sits on the stair case, taking a drag out of her cigarette, watching the rain pour over the field at eight in the evening. The sound of crickets and the downpour is her only company, now that Nayeon had left after hugging Jihyo, until someone sits beside her. 

“I didn’t know you smoked now.” 

Jeongyeon laughs. “If I remember correctly, we smoked a _lot_.” 

Jihyo rolls her eyes. “Not _this_.” 

She takes one last drag before she stubs the cigarette out. “Only when I’m stressed.” 

A few beats, the sound of the rain beating against the ground. “Am I stressing you out?” 

“Yeah,” Jeongyeon says honestly. Her fingers itch for another cigarette but she personally hates smoking around other people. It’s all she has to say before Jihyo makes to stand. 

She takes a hold of her wrist and the touch is the first they’ve shared for years, and it burns her - not Jihyo’s skin, but how much she wants to be closer, and how much she wanted Jihyo while she was away. 

“I didn’t say you should leave,” Jeongyeon tells her, her voice breaking. It’s washed away by the rain. Jihyo doesn’t resist, and she sits beside Jeongyeon again. It feels like a dream, having her so close. 

The silence that shields them from downpour is heavy with so many things they want to say but don’t have the courage to. 

It’s Jihyo who breaks the silence. “Thanks for being there for him during his last moments,” she reaches over and covers Jeongyeon’s balled-up fist with her hand. The warmth is shocking, but welcome. Jeongyeon really misses Jihyo’s touch, and she hates that she feels so conflicted over it. “And for this. It’s supposed to be my job. But you’re family, too. He loved you a lot.” 

Jeongyeon laughs but it sounds miserable. She scratches the back of her neck, the tears pricking her eyes again. “Yeah,” she sniffs. “I know.” 

“I wish you didn’t have to do it for me,” Jihyo says, hugging her knees. “But, you know.” 

“You were stupid.” She says it cooly, but it was heavy with everything Jeongyeon has felt the past months. 

“Yeah,” Jihyo admits. “I really was.” 

There are a few beats of silence and Jihyo tugs at their linked hands. Jeongyeon would pay a million more Won to hold Jihyo a little bit more, a little bit longer. “Hey, if you wanted to say ‘I told you so’, now’s the chance. Go on. Free range.” 

With her other hand, Jeongyeon wipes at her eyes and laughs. “I told you so.” 

“Yeah. You did.” Jihyo sighs. “I won’t ask you to forgive me for all the shitty things I said and did. It’s just…” she exhales shakily. “I spent a lot of time thinking. You were always so ready to risk everything for me and I turned my back on you like that.” 

_Just leave me alone._

“I want to,” she corrects, “But I don’t think I deserve it.” 

Jeongyeon swallows the thickness in her throat. “Maybe you don’t. But you know, I can be a bit stupid.” She taps the side of her head.

Jihyo perks up at that. “You have?” She looks hopeful, but also worried. 

She spends a few moments to think. The ache in her chest says otherwise. “No, I haven’t.” 

“Oh,” she deflates, but she holds herself high again. Jihyo nods, understands. “That’s perfectly fine.” 

Then Jeongyeon’s heart aches for a completely different reason. 

(The reason: she loves Jihyo, and has always loved her. It’s not about to stop now.) 

“But I can,” Jeongyeon says, rocking slightly. She looks at Jihyo and smiles, looking a bit stupid with the way her eyes are red and puffy from crying. “I just need time. And you need to make it up to me.” 

“Okay. Okay. I’ll make it up to you,” promises Jihyo fiercely. It feels like fire, being close to her. “What I said was true. Back at home.”

 _Home._ It shakes Jeongyeon’s soul. 

“Which one?”

“You need to have a life outside of me. Don’t wait,” Jihyo tells her. “Go live. Don’t let me slow you down.” 

There’s a smile on her face, but it’s somber and Jeongyeon is taken back to the basketball court, with a ball passing between them.

 _You have to want your own life,_ a bright-eyed thirteen-year-old Jihyo had told her. _Even if it’s not with me._

“Okay,” Jeongyeon replies. It’s partially a lie, because she can’t remember what life was like before Jihyo except sad, unloved, lonely. “Okay. I’ll try.” 

Their time is up, and Jeongyeon wants to shell out a couple more millions to let her and Jihyo have more time but she controls herself. This time, she watches Jihyo as she’s escorted away into the car in the way that she never was able to when they first took her away.

It feels like her limbs are being torn apart, and there are tears in her eyes as she waves goodbye. Bomb wasn’t even able to see her out. 

She sits on the step, and lets herself cry some more.

+

That night, she curls up in bed and lets Bomb sniffs her for Jihyo’s scent. He meows, and she feels her eyes prick some more but there is no more water that comes out of her tear ducts. 

Her phone pings and Jeongyeon expects it’s Nayeon, or an update on a shipment or job that she’s running. 

It’s a text from Jihyo’s burner phone. 

_Miss u._

Jeongyeon laughs, but it’s broken. She moves to type, _only use when it’s important,_ but another message arrives. 

_Its impt tht i miss u._

Jeongyeon doesn’t reply, only buries her phone under her pillow and falls asleep from exhaustion.

The next morning, a package arrives. Jeongyeon opens it and finds her favorite flavor of ring pops inside. There’s a note, buried under pieces of the candy. 

_I’ll make it up to you._ _I promise._

It’s a slow crawl, but that’s the moment that Jeongyeon’s heart starts to forgive her.


	3. i know the look inside my eyes means 'always'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her hands tremble, from excitement, from longing rising up to the surface all at once. _Where are you?_
> 
> The next message comes. _Home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last part! Thanks for all the hype, hope you guys loved this as much as I do
> 
> Alternatively titled: de•vo•tion and dedicated sides b by carly rae jepsen
> 
> Big thanks to the jeonghyo council for making this happen :) enjoy! 
> 
> Playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6unw7l8AgQTnedAjRhTQqG?si=bfspJVyCQfintAiOLQN3_A)

Much to Jeongyeon’s surprise, life goes on. 

She tries to do good on her promise. Jeongyeon funds a few animal shelters with hundreds of millions in her bank accounts. She helps manage some of the workers of the Park Family, ensuring they have what they need at all times. She goes to visit Mr. Park’s resting place when she needs a place to think. She starts a small indoor garden by the window of her loft; it’s growing very nicely. 

She tries to fill the Jihyo-shaped void inside her soul and Jeongyeon would like to think she’s successful. Sometimes the loft still feels empty with just her and Bomb, and she misses Jihyo every day, though admittedly, it gets better.

Jeongyeon doesn’t visit Jihyo as often as she thought she would. 

Once every two months was a sweet spot. An hour - sometimes less - to talk always seemed so, so short. 

They catch up with life outside and life inside. 

Jeongyeon talks about recent jobs, how everyone’s doing at the Park estate, Nayeon’s latest romantic conquest. She shows Jihyo ridiculous pictures of Bomb that she prints since phones aren’t allowed inside the visiting areas. 

On her fourth visit, she tells Jihyo she and Nayeon dated for a week but it was too weird. 

“You _what_?!” Jihyo exclaims, but she doesn’t appear hurt or sad. Only amused, and slightly grossed out. “Nayeon? Seriously?”

“She’s lonely, okay,” Jeonyeon replies, hiding her face. Maybe it had been a terrible idea to tell Jihyo because now she won’t ever hear the end of it. “It’s cool. It was like nothing happened.”

It was a weird time. Nayeon had asked her out on a date and Jeongyeon, shell-shocked, said yes. Weird. _So weird._

She loves Nayeon, would also take a few bullets for her, but the dating was too complicated. Nayeon was a mess.

Jihyo gets shushed by an officer for laughing too loud. “God,” she breathes, wiping at her eyes. “Whatever happened to _‘I would rather eat glass than date Nayeon’_?”

“Yeah, well, getting _out_ there is harder than it looks,” Jeongyeon tells her, picking at her nails. “I’m in between running several jobs, and gay dating takes too much effort.” 

Her best friend reaches over, touching her hand briefly and Jeongyeon savors it, misses Jihyo’s warmth so much. “At least you’re trying,” she offers a smile and it’s so supportive and encouraging that Jeongyeon is damn sure Jihyo doesn’t feel the same about her and she never has. “Even though I think Nayeon doesn’t really qualify for _getting out there._ Full offense.”

Jeongyeon groans, hiding in her hands. “You can’t tease me for it when you probably have a prison wife in there.” 

Jihyo lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “Not really. It’s kinda lonely. None of them are cute enough.” 

“So you’re saying none of them look like me?” 

Pulling a face, Jihyo rolls her eyes. “Please. Maybe if they transfer me to maximum I’ll meet my prison wife because you’re insufferable.” 

Jeongyeon laughs, loving that she can still get that specific reaction out of Jihyo. It was her and Nayeon’s specialty, being recipients of her disgusted glare. 

When their hour is up, Jihyo’s back to doing time. “Just hang in there, okay?” Jeongyeon tells her. She’d like Jihyo out in this orange suit, and in a few months, if everything goes well, Jihyo will be out. 

“That’s all I ever do,” Jihyo smiles, warm and loving and Jeongyeon still loves her too much, then waves goodbye. “I’ll see you soon. We’ll have more time.” 

-

Life goes on, and a few days before Jeongyeon’s twenty-eighth birthday, she gets a text message. 

It’s from Jihyo’s burner phone. 

_Free bitch, baby._

Her hands tremble, from excitement, from longing rising up to the surface all at once. _Where are you?_

The next message comes. _Home._

Then the doorbell rings. She doesn’t even remember walking to the door, doesn’t remember unlocking it and opening it. Jeongyeon just sees Jihyo in casual clothing - though government-issued - but she manages to make it look incredibly stylish. That’s not even supposed to be possible. 

“Hey,” she says, her smile as soft and as hesitant Jihyo can get. Jeongyeon’s heart beat madly in her chest. It follows the rhythm of a litany she recites in her head: _she’s here, she’s here, she’s here._ “Hope you didn’t mind I came here firs—”

It’s all she manages to get out before Jeongyeon takes her into her arms. 

It’s the first hug they’ve shared in three years. The way they had parted here, in this house years ago felt like her heart being ripped apart. 

Jeongyeon had pieced it together, all these years. She’d fulfilled her promise to Jihyo - she had her own life. In the process, she picked herself back up. 

The way Jihyo’s body fit into her own felt like a finishing coat. Like everything coming full circle. Jeongyeon buries her fingers in Jihyo’s short hair, holding her tight. Jihyo holds her back just as fiercely.

She's her own person, yes. But Jihyo is her endgame. She always has been. A few years apart isn't going to change that. 

At the end of the day, it was her and Jihyo and Nayeon against the world. 

“You’re always welcome here,” Jeongyeon tells her, meaning it. It’s fiercely whispered into Jihyo’s hair. She doesn’t want to let go. “This is your home, too.” 

_(Are you sure I could be here?_ She had asked Jihyo years ago. _This is my second night to sleep at your place._

 _This is your house._ Jihyo replied. _It’s mine just as it’s yours.)_

They part and Jeongyeon feels the separation already, but she lets it. She looks at Jihyo, _truly_ looks at her, and she’s aged considerably — not in a bad way. It’s impossible for Jihyo to age in a bad way. 

She has a sharper face, harder eyes. But her smile was the same, and the way she felt in Jeongyeon’s arms felt the same - thinner, because of the shitty prison diet, and leaner from the manual labor inside. 

Jihyo looks up at Jeongyeon, meets her eyes. Jeongyeon realizes she was still in love with Jihyo the same way she did when she was twenty. She realizes she wants to kiss her. 

She looks down at Jihyo’s lips, slightly chapped, and had this been a few years ago she would have shied away with guilt. 

After all her figurative self-flagellation, Jeongyeon deserves a glance or a little more at Jihyo’s lips. 

Her senses zero in, and she sees Jihyo’s mouth move. “Jeongyeon,” she says, quietly. It’s hard to breathe. Jeongyeon doesn’t dare look up to meet Jihyo’s eyes, doesn’t want to experience the guilt of getting caught. “I—”

Then, there’s loud mewling and a jingling of collar bells when Bomb realizes that the new presence in the loft was no other than his beloved Jihyo. 

He comes bolting in, past Jeongyeon’s legs and barrelling into Jihyo, crying. 

The moment is broken, but it’s replaced by the tender gesture of Jihyo taking Bomb into her arms, embracing him as he cries some more, tucking his head under her chin. 

“Hey, baby. I’m here now, shh…” coos Jihyo, soothing the cat. Tears spring to Jeongyeon’s eyes, unbidden. Jihyo looks at her, smiling, keeps Jeongyeon’s eyes on her. “I’m really sorry, okay? I’m not going anywhere anymore.” 

Jeongyeon leans back against the dining table, watching this moment unfold. 

She knows Jihyo. She knows how Jihyo’s brain works. Three years, shut away from the rest of the world? By now she’d think Jihyo would have had a solution to the fossil fuel crisis. 

“So what now?” Jeongyeon asks. Jihyo’s still rocking Bomb in her arms. 

“Hmm?”

“Don’t pretend you’re not plotting something. I know something’s in there.” she taps her own temple. Jihyo was a genius and her mind moved faster than the majority of the people of this earth, almost always three or four steps ahead of you.

(Emphasis on _almost._ )

Jihyo laughs, smiling at Bomb. “You know me so well.” She says it with all the fondness Jeongyeon has craved for. Spending more than a decade together does that to people. 

“A plan?” Jihyo’s mind worked intricately. She always surprised Jeongyeon every time, without fail. 

“Yeah,” says Jihyo, scratching Bomb’s chin. “But you know what would make it even better?”

She raises an eyebrow. Jihyo looks up at her, a dangerous glint in her eyes. She’s smiling, looking incredibly sharp, and every bit the person Jeongyeon has always loved. 

“Revenge.”

+

“Do you think Nayeon hates me?” Jihyo asks idly. She won’t show it, but Jeongyeon is over the moon that Jihyo is seated in her passenger seat again. “After, you know, everything?” 

Jeongyeon laughs because it’s further from the truth than anything. “Her? Please. If you don’t recall, she tackled you the last time you saw her.” 

“A lot can change in a few years.” 

She’s right. But Nayeon had never hated Jihyo. Pissed off at her, yes, but it had passed as the years went by. “You know her. Stubborn as hell,” Jeongyeon shrugs, making a turn. “The world can change and Nayeon is still the way she is.” 

Which was untrue. In the last few years, Nayeon’s temper mellowed, and she was definitely a better listener than she was before. Her inflated ego, however, remained the same but that was part of her charm, Jeongyeon would argue. 

Nayeon all but tumbles into Jihyo the moment they step into the foyer of the Im estate, running down the staircase in the least graceful way possible. It’s been some time since she and Nayeon hugged, and Jeongyeon had secretly shelled out some money so they could. 

“You are so stupid,” Nayeon tells Jihyo, still not letting her go. “So fucking stupid for the smartest person in this world.

Jihyo laughs, returning the fervor of Nayeon’s embrace. “I know.” 

“And I dated Jeongyeon. For a week.”

“I know.” 

It should be impossible to hold on even tighter to her, but Nayeon does it. “And I love you so much.” 

Jeongyeon watches the exchange, and Jihyo’s eyes meet hers, over Nayeon’s shoulder, at the admission. _See?_ Jeongyeon means to tell her. 

Jihyo looks away, burying herself into Nayeon’s shoulder in what Jeongyeon understands is: _I have to earn this._

She shrugs. _Why don’t you try?_

Before she knows it, Jihyo pulls her by the collar of her jacket for her to be closer and into the hug. It throws her off, mainly because Jihyo got stronger, and also because it’s been too long since they’ve held each other this way. 

_Crime besties,_ Nayeon had said years ago. It honest-to-God sucked as a name for all of them, but it had stuck in Jeongyeon’s mind even if she’d rather step in front of a bus than say it out loud. 

Jihyo, sandwiched between Jeongyeon and Nayeon, breaks the silence, muffled by Nayeon’s clothes. “Nayeon, we need your help.” 

That certainly piques Nayeon’s attention. She pulls back, shoving Jeongyeon off effectively. “Oh?” She says, looking every bit as dangerous as she can be. “In Jihyo speak, that’s ‘we’re gonna steal shit’ or ‘we’re gonna fuck shit up’. Which is it?”

“Both,” Jihyo replies. Nayeon lets out a scandalized gasp, and Jeongyeon can’t wait until she finds out more about the plan. “We’re going to take the Met Gala and we’re going to throw my ex-boyfriend in jail doing it.” 

+

“So you got what you want to do,” Nayeon says, announcing her entrance as Jihyo and Jeongyeon eyeball the Met’s floor plans. Nayeon dumps four envelopes and six folders over it, almost toppling over their tea drinks. “I got us the tickets to the Gala, but these are the tickets to success.” 

Jeongyeon flips a few open. They were profiles of people. 

Nayeon’s network is unbelievably vast. In the years they’ve known each other, she’d gone from budding sweetheart to untouchable socialite. It was no secret that they needed people and that Nayeon - as she always does - gets it for them. 

_Hirai Momo._ Renowned performer at all the top shows in America. She was an acrobat, a contortionist. She could fit anywhere she wanted to.

(“You want me to move inside those vents?” Momo hums, not sounding very sure. “I’m not sure if I’ll remember the right way in or out.” 

Jihyo lays a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’ll have me in your ear the whole time.” 

“Not gonna lie, lady, that’s creepy as hell but I’ll take it.”) 

_Kim Dahyun._ White-hat hacker. No wall she couldn’t scale. Other than that, Jeongyeon doesn’t know anything about her and she respects that. 

(“So you do some hacking?” 

“Yeah.” She pops her bubble gum. 

“Can you get their security plans?” 

Dahyun punches a few things on her phone and pulls up exactly what they needed. All CCTV hot spots, blind spots, and tech security designations.) 

_Myoui Mina._ Prodigy scientist with two PhDs under her belt at the tender age of twenty-four. She can recreate any mineral in her lab if she wanted to. Nayeon has worked with her before, and Jeongyeon knew of her and what she could do. 

(“You think you can replicate a diamond?” 

“That seems fairly easy,” Mina says. “Do you have a picture of what it looks like?” 

Jihyo pulls out a picture of the _Toussaint,_ the most important piece in Cartier’s collection. At the Met Gala, they’re taking it out from the vaults for the first time in seventy years. 

Mina raises an eyebrow at it, then at Jihyo, Jeongyeon, and Nayeon. “Give me a 3D rendition of it, a close-up of the Jewel color, and five days.”) 

_Chou Tzuyu._ Top designer for the past few years. She’s been dominating seasonal shows and marketing campaigns with her line _CHOU,_ and along with other newer brands, it makes older names like _Mugler_ and _Tom Ford_ fold, or push them to step out of their comfort zones. This Met Gala's theme is _Camp_ , and it's right up Tzuyu's alley.

The Met entrusts her with the _Toussaint,_ and Nayeon snags her before anyone else can think of it. 

(“What’s in it for me?” Tzuyu says, not even looking up from her work to pay attention to them.

“You get a piece of the _Toussaint,_ ” Jihyo tells her. “The real one.”

That halts the ministrations of Tzuyu’s hands.) 

_Son Chaeyoung._ Up-and-coming artist and a newly appointed co-chair of the Gala. She had worked at the Met for years and knew the know-hows of the occasion - even more so than Nayeon, a frequent guest. So it only makes sense she would be Nayeon’s plus one.

(“Why do you want to help us?” Jeongyeon asks. “You work there.” 

Chaeyoung shrugs, rolling a blunt while they talk. “Doesn’t mean I don’t hate the institution.” She licks it, then laughs. “Wintour has had too much power over that fucking museum.”) 

_Minatozaki Sana._ The face of the Met Gala. The wearer of the _Touissant_ , selected by the Met co-chairs and by Cartier themselves. Nayeon throws a party, invites Jihyo’s ex-boyfriend, and sets the whole goddamn thing up. At the end of the night, Sana invites him to the Met Gala, has him as her plus one, has him wrapped around her dainty little finger. 

(“You sure you want to do this?” Jeongyeon asks her. “You don’t have to. We can move that part of that plan around. Or any part.” 

Sana giggles, absolutely elated. “Oh no! I love the theatrics and the drama. It’s probably pretty interesting PR.” She looks to Jihyo, pouting. “He’s really in love with himself. I don’t know what you saw in him.” 

Jihyo hides her face in her hands when Nayeon laughs until her face is red.) 

Nayeon gets Jeongyeon a position to manage the administrative and operational inflow and outflow of the entire Met Gala to work in their favor. 

Whereas Jihyo makes sure everything goes according to plan on the ground, makes sure to get those goddamn diamonds, and most importantly, frame her ex-boyfriend for it.

+

The rain splashes against the concrete ground when Jeongyeon joins Jihyo on the bench situated in front of the mausoleum of their family, a fresh set of flowers in front of Mr. Park’s plaque to replace the ones Jeongyeon left during her last visit. 

She lets them have a few moments with each other even if Jihyo doesn’t request it out loud. 

“You know, he knew you weren’t my friend when we met at the sandbox,” Jihyo says, smiling. “He found out a few days after, when he asked for your favorite food and I couldn’t say anything because the only thing you’ve ever said to me was just my name.” 

Jeongyeon laughs. Jihyo had such a hard time lying to Mr. Park about everything and it was a struggle, growing up. Jeongyeon never even tried, and the guilt of lying to him would eat her up alive. 

“And he didn’t even question it, because we thought you were gonna die,” she says, swinging her legs idly. “Then you came to the estate and gave him that cute little birdhouse you made and won him over in an instant.”

She had nothing to repay his kindness back then, and even with the millions she has in her bank accounts now, it still wouldn’t be enough. 

_Take care… you… Jih…_

“He’d appreciate all you’re doing for our family, you know? Keeping our people safe and getting them what they need.” There were nights she spent sleeping on the dining table because Jeongyeon had been working to make sure that Mr. Park’s people - whom she didn’t work with so much anymore save for a few favors - got their pay, or got their bail, or had their messes cleaned up. “Let me share that with you.” 

Jeongyeon looks up. “You wanna do the crunch work with me? But you’re his daughter. You should be leading the family.” 

“I can do that,” she sighs, “but I can also help you with it. You don’t have to do it alone.” 

When Jeongyeon doesn’t say anything, she’s reminded of the note that came with the ring pops. _I’ll make it up to you._

She elbows Jeongyeon gently. “Why do you look surprised? I’m still your partner in crime.” Then she looks down, realizing what she’s said. “If you’ll have me, of course.” 

_I love you_ , Jeongyeon wants to say. What comes out is: “I'll always be your partner. I never stopped. Not even for a second.”

Under the shade of the mausoleum and the rain surrounding them, Jihyo looks beautiful. 

Jihyo watches her intently. They’ve been sharing these looks and Jeongyeon doesn’t know what to make of it. 

“So cheesy,” her best friend replies, bumping her leg with her own like she always does. Jihyo leans against Jeongyeon, resting her head on Jeongyeon’s shoulder. “I’m glad. I won’t stop being yours, too.” 

_I promise,_ the note had said. 

The rain falls around them and Jeongyeon is glad for the noise, so Jihyo won’t feel the way her heart is beating a mile a minute inside her ribcage.

+

Jeongyeon’s loft was never empty, but it was never full. 

Except now, actually, with six girls who make excuses to stay a little longer, to be with each other for a few more minutes, hours, days. 

Their work easily melds with their personal lives since they’re on crunch time right now. They sleep and eat at the loft on more days than otherwise. 

Sometimes, it’s Momo looking for food inside her fridge. It’s Sana doing her makeup before running to a shoot. It’s Mina sleeping on the dining table, lab reports and rock samples scattered around her. It’s Dahyun consuming sugar and carbonated drinks, typing away madly at her laptop on Jeongyeon’s couch. It always smells like weed in the guest bathroom, where Jeongyeon and Jihyo let Chaeyoung smoke in peace. Bomb takes a liking to Tzuyu, who brings him extra feathers for him to play with. 

It’s hard not to like them. Jeongyeon finds that she welcomes these girls who must be finding peace than wherever they’re supposed to be. She’s honored they stay as long as they clean up. 

Jihyo seems to think the same, too. She helps each of them however way she can. It’s her plan, but she also pulls her weight. The way her smile is wider tells Jeongyeon that she likes working with them, loves having all of them around. 

Before any of them know it, the Met Gala is tomorrow. Everything is in place, ready for deployment. Everyone goes home pretty early - except Dahyun, who likes sleeping on Jeongyeon’s couch - and Jihyo and Jeongyeon retire to bed, exhausted. 

“Tomorrow’s the day,” says Jeongyeon, when they’re settled. Bomb is fast asleep at their feet. 

“Yeah,” Jihyo replies. “It is.” 

Jeongyeon reaches over, taking Jihyo’s hand in her own. “It will work.” 

“I know.” There’s some shuffling, the duvets shifting when Jihyo turns. Her arms are tucked under her head. “I just want to see him in jail already.” 

“And he will end up in jail.” 

There’s a silence, and they look at each other. Bomb’s purrs are their only accompaniment, save for the violent beating of Jeongyeon’s heart, and the way she sighs when Jihyo squeezes her hand. “Can we do something when this is over? Go somewhere far, just the two of us.” She touches Jeongyeon’s face briefly and moves to pull away, but Jeongyeon takes her hand and keeps it in place. “I feel like we need to catch up.” 

They’ve been busy the moment Jihyo said she had a plan. Jeongyeon can’t help but agree. “Okay. Anywhere you want to go.” 

Jihyo shakes her head. “No. Anywhere _you_ want to go.” She smiles. “You get to decide. I want you to.” 

She doesn’t know where exactly just yet, because she wants to be anywhere Jihyo is. Though the Bahamas would be nice this time of the year. 

“Okay,” she sighs. Jihyo looks at her with such hope and love, and it’s always been there - only now, it’s much more intense. Like looking directly at a sun, and Jeongyeon still does it. “Wherever I want to go.” 

+

Jeongyeon’s about to head out, her morning starting much earlier than everyone else’s. She chooses her lucky Harley Davidson to take to the Met, and she’s about to put on her helmet when a voice calls from behind her. 

“Hey,” Jihyo says, wrapped up in a silk robe. It’s chilly out even with Jeongyeon’s jacket, and that thin layer can’t possibly cover anything. Jeongyeon turns to her, raising her brows in question - because Jihyo doesn’t have to be awake until much later. “I wanted to tell you something.” 

She looks beautiful, sleep-mussed and drowsy, and a little bit puffy. Their garage light casts a warm, incandescent glow that makes Jihyo look ethereal. 

Jihyo crosses the garage and Jeongyeon doesn’t even notice until there’s barely any space between them. They’ve been even closer than before, but Jeongyeon doesn’t know why it’s only now that all the air is punched right out of her lungs. 

“Yeah?” Jeongyeon says, and she feels Jihyo’s breathe on her lips. 

There is pause - a long one. A few breaths and the tension that’s been building finally confronts them. 

_If nothing would change,_ Nayeon had said, _then_ _what are you so afraid of?_

When Jeongyeon finds that she fears nothing, not when Jihyo is here, she leans in. 

The first kiss they share is frantic, making up for the lost time. Jihyo has always been like fire, and she kisses exactly like it. Jeongyeon lets herself be consumed. 

Every press of their lips feel like an ‘ _I love you_ ’. Jeongyeon, then, is consumed by it. 

Jeongyeon holds Jihyo’s waist and Jihyo has her arms around Jeongyeon’s neck, the space between them ceasing to exist. She’s dreamed of and about this, wanted this for so long and now that she has it, Jeongyeon isn’t about to let go. 

They part, flushed and heaving, but also not really. Jihyo presses her forehead against Jeongyeon, catching her breath. 

“How,” she exhales, and Jeongyeon wants to kiss her again - bodily needs like breathing be damned. “How long?” 

“Our first heist,” Jeongyeon replies. But she had loved Jihyo even before she knew what it meant. “You?” 

“The motel.” 

Jeongyeon laughs, holding Jihyo tighter to her body. She wishes they didn’t have a heist to pull in a few hours, not when Jihyo feels this way against her body, “That long?” Jeongyeon jokes when she regains a semblance of breathing ability. “And you dated him, even then?” 

She swats at her arm. “You dated Nayeon even when you were in love with me?” 

Jeongyeon pulls a face. All is fair in love and war. “Okay, you got me there.” 

Jeongyeon’s watch beeps, and it tells her it’s three in the morning. She has to go, else she’d be late to the preparations for the Gala. The process had been high strung and toxic, and she’d rather be here with Jihyo, but they have a plan. 

“Can we talk about this later,” she asks, looking away. “You know… us?” 

A part of her had expected Jihyo to say no, but Jihyo still surprises her, twenty-two years into knowing each other. “Okay,” she smiles. “After.” 

They kiss a second time and it’s sweet, so sweet, and hard to pull away from. It tastes like _later,_ _we have time_.

They have a necklace to steal and a man to frame. 

+

It goes like this: 

Jeongyeon sees it from above - where everyone is, what everyone’s doing. Jihyo sees it from below, at the grounds.

When they hear Sana say, “ _it’s beautiful,_ ” over the intercoms, they begin the work. Tzuyu clicks it safely around Sana’s neck - not too tight, not too loose - easy enough to be removed later. 

Sana wears the _Toussaint._ It hangs heavy around her neck when she makes her Met Gala debut in a gorgeous pink dress that shows her perfect collarbones. 

_Sorry,_ Sana tells Jihyo’s ex-boyfriend who looks incredibly plain in his tux and the whole team hears it. _Can you stand aside? I’m taking pictures._

Nayeon and Chaeyoung make their entrance, announce they’re dating just for the scandal, and are all up on each other’s business the whole night. 

Jihyo makes her way into the banquet hall, blending in with the one percent easily, in the dress Tzuyu designed just for her - which Jihyo paid her for generously, for her craft. 

Sana is in range, as Jeongyeon had placed Jihyo at a nearby table - enough for her to gain access, but not within the line of sight of her ex boyfriend. Jeongyeon knows that Jihyo will take this as her moment to strike. 

This is where the fun starts. _Dahyun, now_ , Jihyo says over the intercoms. 

The lights shut down for thirty seconds. That’s all it takes for Jihyo to switch the _Toussaint_ from Sana’s neck with the fake one Mina had made, an exact replica that’s sure to fool everyone for now or for a long time. 

_How are we sure they’re gonna buy it?_ Momo asks, waiting for Jihyo at a restroom stall with the vent above it unscrewed. 

_It’s impossible to tell a lab diamond from a ‘real’ diamond,_ Mina replies simply. _Their valuation comes from the meaning we assign to it. They just aren’t the millions of dollars that they cost people._

There’s silence, and: _I’m not sure what any of those mean, but I believe you, Dr. Myoui,_ from Momo. 

Jihyo’s holding the _Toussaint_ now, and she takes it to the bathroom where Momo is on standby - waits for the CCTV to turn away before she enters, passes the _Toussaint_ to her, and lets her climb up the vent to get outside. 

As she promised, she gives Momo the direction she needs until Momo is out. Mina drives her away, back to Jeongyeon’s loft, and they all breathe a collective sigh. 

They got it. 

One more thing to go, and it’s penciled down for tomorrow evening. 

They celebrate their victory by ordering in every single thing they want to eat and pass out from a food coma. The _Toussaint_ is in a glass case, not illuminated for safety reasons, and because Mina recommended for it to not be damaged by light. 

When everyone leaves, Jihyo and Jeongyeon talk, and it ends with long-overdue _I love yous,_ some more kissing, and a little more than that to make up for lost time. 

They articulate their devotion, now a little differently, yet it’s just as meaningful as every single way they expressed it before. 

+

Men were gullible creatures, and it was as easy as breathing for them to fall under Sana’s charms and meaningless flirtation. 

Despite Sana’s hostility and all-around meanness to Jihyo’s ex-boyfriend, he agrees to see her again. 

Sana brings out her best femme fatale, tells him not to touch, suggests blindfolds and he dashes out of the room to get one like an idiot. 

Naturally, he is surprised when he sees Jihyo and Jeongyeon sitting on his couch already. 

“Surprised to see me?” Jihyo says first. She rises as he stands, pale in the face and standing aghast in his boxer shorts and a shirt. “Good.” 

“Jihyo, h-hi,” he trembles, walking backward. He bumps into Sana in the process, looking just as threatening as Jihyo and Jeongyeon - in leather and a sleek coat - in a kimono, barely dressed. He looks at Jeongyeon and averts his eyes in fear, rightfully so. 

“I’m flattered you remember me,” Jihyo tells him. “You know, after you stabbed me in the back and threw me in jail.” 

He’s sweating, looking about to piss himself and Jeongyeon is enjoying this so much. He falls on his backside, looking pathetic. 

She doesn’t even have to do anything, and Jihyo is the one that needs this. 

Jihyo inspects her nails, disinterested in him. “So when I got out, I thought I might pay it forward, you know?” She calls out for Sana who comes out decently dressed, holding a deep velvet pouch. Jihyo takes it and pulls out the real _Toussaint_ \- with six fewer stones - with a gloved hand. 

“You didn’t,” he says. Jeongyeon manhandles his arm so his fingerprints are all over a few diamonds. “No! You can’t do this.” 

Jihyo places it back into the pouch, gives it back to Sana who pads back into his room to place it inside the depths of his wardrobe. 

“I absolutely can,” she replies simply. She sighs, watching him - bored, disgusted. “I don’t know what I ever saw in you.” 

He is speechless, and it’s about time to go. They have precisely ten minutes until the cops show up after Dahyun tipped them the real _Toussaint_ , or what’s left of it, was here. 

Jeongyeon rolls her eyes. Taxes go to these people who only respond fast when big organizations ask them to and there are a million dollars on the line, just so they could act like heroes. _Pfft._

“This has been fun! It was really nice seeing you. We’ll be going now.” Jihyo stands. She smiles at him, and he looks like he’s about to pass out. “I’ll see you in fifty years, buddy.” 

They turn to leave, but Jeongyeon winks at Jihyo, who understands exactly what she’s trying to say. 

“Oh, and one more thing.” 

Jihyo kneels, and after a few beats, she smacks him in the face with her fist so hard that there’s a loud crack and then a thud. He passes out, dead to the world. 

“Ow,” her best friend winces. There will surely be some bruising in a few minutes. 

“Let’s get out of here and ice this,” Jeongyeon tells her, holding her hand gingerly. “Sana, decent enough to go?”

“Hell yes.” Sana kicks a few things and breaks them, making it look like a robbery as Jeongyeon had instructed. 

Hours later, they pull some strings, and he’s set up for trails, with a hundred percent chance of being behind bars for the next fifty years. 

Jihyo gets the girls their diamonds, but more importantly, she gets her revenge.

+

Jihyo can’t be further from a traditional person if she tried, but she does like to keep a few alive. 

In true Park fashion, she sponsors a party. The official celebration for their success. 

Then again, she didn’t care much for tradition. So in true Jihyo fashion, she only invites seven people. 

There’s dancing, free-flowing alcohol, and Jeongyeon and Jihyo watch as everyone celebrates. Jihyo’s ex-boyfriend’s miserable ass was in jail, and they’ve split the diamonds equally between people who were interested. 

They’re lounging on the couch, Jeongyeon’s arm wraps around Jihyo securely, and they laugh when Nayeon almost falls off the long table when she attempts to do a runway strut in her Louboutins. 

“I like this little group we put together,” Jihyo says, overtaken by a brief moment of tenderness that she hopes the others won’t see. “Dad would have liked them.” wistfulness tinged Jihyo’s tone, but also a certain fondness for all of the girls before her. 

Nayeon does fall off the table, but Momo - agile as ever, and probably against her own will - catches her perfectly. 

“No better group of people to band together than a bunch of misfits,” replies Jeongyeon, when her heart rate is back to normal after seeing Nayeon _almost_ break a few bones in her body. She squeezes Jihyo’s shoulder and kisses her head. “Sometimes that’s all you need.” 

“That’s how we found each other,” Jihyo giggles, turning a bit to give Jeongyeon a sweet kiss that _still_ makes Jeongyeon shy. Jihyo rubs the scars on Jeongyeon’s thigh idly. “Back in that sandbox.” 

Jeongyeon, never fitting in because she was too different. Jihyo, never fitting in because of her name, her family. 

Then they had one another and it never had to happen ever again.

“Yeah,” Jeongyeon laughs, their lips still touching. She’s more drunk on her than the alcohol, with Jihyo tasting like raspberries and brownies. “We did.” 

That night, it takes them thirty minutes to plan a trip to the Bahamas, and they leave tomorrow. 

-

Jeongyeon is thirty-three when Jihyo proposes. 

They’re lying on the couch after a long day, Jihyo resting on top of Jeongyeon, letting Jeongyeon play with her hair as they listen to podcasts to relax. Bomb slumps across Jihyo’s back, preoccupied with kneading Jihyo before curling up.

There’s some rustling of plastic then Jihyo brandishes Jeongyeon’s favorite flavor of ring pops. 

“Hey,” says Jihyo, solemnly. “Will you marry me?”

Jeongyeon sighs, even as her heart races in her chest. “You stole the most important piece of Cartier jewelry with me, and you propose with this.” 

“Those never meant anything to us.” Jihyo laughs out loud, resting her head against Jeongyeon’s chest. She raises the ring pop, gives it a little wave. “This does.” 

It’s true. They couldn’t care less about the riches they steal from richer people. This stupid ring pop they’ve been eating since their childhood was more important to them than any of those.”

Jihyo shifts, her hand clutching onto Jeongyeon’s like a lifeline. “I can’t imagine my life without you. I can’t remember what it was before we met. I’d do anything to make you happy and to deserve you.” she says. Her voice shakes, but it does not waver. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, making sure I do it.” 

Jihyo is a woman of her word. The twenty-two years they’ve known each other has only proved as such. 

Jeongyeon is charmed to her toes, loves Jihyo more than anything on this planet. The tears are spilling down her temples and Jihyo doesn’t have to look to know she’s crying. “Mmm,” she says through a sob. “I’ll think about it.” 

That makes Jihyo rouse a bit, lifting her head up. She’s crying, too, but she knows Jeongyeon’s answer is a resounding _yes._ “You’re lucky I love you.”

Jeongyeon laughs, kisses Jihyo because it’s all she can do, all she wants to do. She says yes, yes, a thousand and eleven times _yes._

(Later on, Jihyo proposes with an actual ring and gets one for herself because she wants to. They’re simple, silver bands that match on their fingers, cool against Jeongyeon’s skin.

They can’t seem to embody the depth and lengths of Jihyo and Jeongyeon’s devotion to each other, but it’s a solid, physical reminder that even if everything else stops making sense, as long as they have each other, they’ll be fine.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If i could stop writing that 3mix dated each other, i simply would not do it
> 
> Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear what you think in the comments or [here](https://curiouscat.me/softshocks)!


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